Maggie Thompson had been living alone for years in a tiny cottage on the fringe of Littleford, a sleepy Yorkshire hamlet. Still, whenever someone muttered that she was all by herself, shed chuckle and fire back, What? Me? Oh, nonsenseI’ve got a huge family! The local folk would smile and nod, then glance over Maggies shoulder, rolling a finger to their temple as if to say, Shes a bit dotty, her family is just a menagerie.
Maggie called that menagerie her family, and she didnt care a whit about the village gossip that, if you kept animals, you were supposed to have, say, a cow or a few chickens, a watchdog, and a cat for the mice. She owned five cats and four dogs, and, according to the neighbours, they all lived inside the house instead of out in the garden where they belong. The neighbours kept their opinions to themselves, knowing it was pointless to argue with Maggie; shed just laugh and reply, Enough of the street talkour home is perfectly fine for all of us.
Five years earlier, Maggie had lost her husband and teenage son in a single tragic accident: a lorry on the motorway had clipped their fishing boat as they drove home. The shock left her unable to stay in the flat that still smelled of their shampoo and coffee, and the thought of wandering the same streets and shops felt like a cruel reminder. After six months, she sold the flat, bundled up her cat Misty, and moved to the edge of Littleford, buying a modest house with a garden patch. Summer found her planting potatoes; when winter rolled in, she took a job in the community centres canteen.
She gradually brought all her animals over. Some showed up begging at the railway station, others trotted in from the canteen looking for scraps. Thus the solitary womans family grew, a collection of kindred souls who, like her, had once known loneliness and hardship. Maggies generous heart soothed their bruised spirits, and they returned the favor with endless affection. There was always enough love and, surprisingly, enough foodthough it wasnt always easy.
Maggie kept reminding herself that she couldnt keep adopting forever, promising, No more, I swear. Then Marchs warm sunshine turned back into Februarys icy grip, laying a crusty blanket of snow over the lanes and howling through the night.
She hurried to catch the last evening bus, a sevenhour ride back to Littleford. With two days off ahead, she stopped in the shop after work, filling her hands with groceries for herself and her furry brood, plus a few leftovers from the canteen. The sacks were heavy, tugging at her elbows.
Remembering her promise, Maggie tried not to glance sideways, focusing on the pets waiting at home. But, as the old saying goes, the heart sees what the eyes miss, and it made her pause just before the bus stop. A dog lay under a bench, its gaze blank, almost glassy, its body halfburied under a fresh drift of snow. Passersby hurried past, wrapped in scarves and hoodies, oblivious.
Maggies heart clenched. She dropped her bags, sprinted to the bench, and reached for the dog. It blinked slowly.
Thank heavens youre alive! she exhaled. Come on, dear, get up, follow me
The dog didnt move, but it didnt fight either as she lifted it from under the bench. It seemed resigned, as if it were ready to quit the world.
She never quite remembered how she managed to haul the two heavy bags and the shivering animal to the bus station. Inside, she claimed a corner seat in the waiting room and began kneading the thin, frostbitten paws, warming them with her hands.
Come on, love, pull yourself together. We still have a way to go. Youll be our fifth dognice and even, she cooed.
From her bag she produced a small meatball. The dog sniffed, hesitated, then, after a few shivers, took a tentative bite. Its nose twitched, its eyes brightened, and it ate.
An hour later, the bus had long since departed. Maggie fashioned a makeshift leash from her belt, though the dognow christened Millywas already trotting at her heels, pressed close to her boots.
Ten minutes later, they managed to flag down a stalled car. The driver, a middleaged man in a rainspattered coat, asked, Need a seat?
Dont worry, Ill put her on my lap. She wont make a mess, Maggie replied, halflaughing.
Im fine, the driver said, just let her sit on the seat; shes not that small. Milly, still trembling, somehow found room on Maggies lap.
Its warmer this way, Maggie smiled.
The driver nodded, glancing at the makeshift collar around Millys neck, and turned up the heater. They drove in a comfortable silence, Maggies arms wrapped around the warming dog, watching the snowblown road flash by under the headlights.
He stole occasional glances at the womans profile, noticing the quiet determination in her eyes. She seemed a touch weary, yet content.
When they finally pulled up to Maggies cottage, the driver helped unload the bags. A thick layer of snow had piled against the wroughtiron gate, and the rusty hinges gave way with a groan, sending the gate crashing to one side.
Dont mind that, Maggie sighed, its long overdue for a repair.
From inside came a chorus of barking and meowing. Maggie hurried to the door, flung it open, and her whole family spilled out into the yard.
Well, you didnt lose me, did you? she announced, grinning. Here I am, back where I belong. Meet the newest addition
Milly peeked shyly from behind Maggies legs, while the other dogs wagged their tails and nosed at the remaining sacks the driver still held.
Come on in, if youre not scared of our big clan. Fancy a cuppa? Maggie called.
The driver set the bags down but declined, Its getting late; Ill be on my way. Youve got plenty to feed them.
The next afternoon, a muffled thump echoed from the garden. Donning a coat, Maggie stepped outside and saw the driver from yesterday busy fixing the gate, tools spread neatly around him.
Good afternoon! he called, wiping his hands. I broke the gate yesterday, so Ive come to mend it. Im Vladimir, by the way. And you are?
Maggie, she replied, smiling.
Her tailwagging brood sniffed the newcomer, curiosity alight. He crouched, scratching behind a few ears.
Dont be shy, love. Come inside. Ill be done shortly, and youre welcome for a slice of cakeand a few treats for the whole lot, he said, gesturing toward the cottage.
Maggie laughed, feeling the weight of promises dissolve into the simple joy of a warm hearth, a rescued dog, and a neighbour who, despite a broken gate, knew how to fix more than just hinges.
